The Great Middle Earth Game Show
by Londonmage
Summary: The Great Middle earth Game Show, brought to you by all your favorite LotR characters. The After Party is in the works...but on slight hold at the moment.Rated PG just to be safe. :D [Also cowritten with my lovely sister, Dene4]
1. The Great Middle earth Game Show, Take 1

**The Great Middle earth Game Show**

* * *

By Dene4 & Simply Sara

Disclaimer: Neither of us own Lord of the Rings or any characters recognizable herein. We also do not own that soda you are drinking while reading this and so can't really be responsible if you spew it over your keyboard. Sorry. This is just for fun, no money is involved. Please also note, we love each character portrayed within and any OOC-ness is for humor purposes only and in no way reflects upon our honest opinions of the character. We wouldn't mess around with them if we didn't love 'em. Alright, I'll shut up now.

* * *

Somewhere in Middle earth, (it really doesn't matter where) a small hobbit was standing in the center of a stage set up with a long table, lined with chairs, a beeper placed on the table before each chair. There was also a lone table facing the other table equipped with a computer flashing all kinds of intriguing data across its screen. A rather interesting looking group of beings was standing nearby.

Suddenly the hobbit spoke: "Hello and welcome to 'The Great Middle earth Game Show'. I am your host, Peregrin Took. But you can call me Pippin."

One of the beings, Gandalf, as it were, whispered to the man to his right. "I thought the host was supposed to be smarter than us, not dumber." Aragorn snickered.

"Silence!" Pippin boomed. "Now, let's get on with this. As I call your name, please make your way to the table and take a seat. Frodo Baggins," he began, "Meriadoc Brandybuck--"

"Merry!" one of the hobbits called out. Pippin shot him a look--you know the one.

"As I was saying, Merry Brandybuck—"

"No, no! Just 'Merry'," the same voice interrupted. A few laughs circled through the assembled.

The veins in Pippin's forehead were starting to pop out a bit. "Frodo Baggins," he began again, "Merry—"

"What about 'Merry the Magnificent' instead?" Several chuckles pealed through the gathered.

Now you could see the veins in Pippin's neck, too. "Merry…SHUT UP!"

Silence. A cricket chirped.

"Frodo—" Pippin started yet again.

"We know, we know! Frodo & Merry! Let's get on with it!" Saruman interjected. Nods of assent swept through the crowd.

"Wait a second," Gandalf interrupted in disbelief. "Did I just nod in assent to Saruman?"

Saruman cackled evilly.

Pippin closed his eyes for a moment clenching his jaw in frustration and then continued. "Smeagol, Gandalf, Saruman, Boromir, Faramir, Denethor, Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, and Samwise Gamgee, please approach the stage."

Gollum cried out "But I thought I was going to play too."

"You are preciousss," Smeagol replied.

"Shut up!" Gollum barked.

"What's the matter," Smeagol returned. "Is Gollum loosing his nerve?"

"No! Not! Gollum wants to see nasty hobbits… (gulp)…lose."

"This sounds all too familiar...." mumbled Sam.

Pippin glared at Gollum/Smeagol. "That's enough! Smeagol quit fighting with…uh…yourself."

Making sure that each contestant had been seated, Pippin continued. "Alright, let's begin." He glanced at his computer screen. "First question: Who is the ultimate evil bad guy?"

The beepers beeped.

"Alright, the first person to answer was…Faramir. Well Faramir?" Pippin questioned.

"Denethor!" Faramir supplied without hesitation. Denethor balked.

"Why you!" he started, rising from his seat.

"What? You tried to kill me!" Faramir supplied in his defence.

"I would have, too if it weren't for Gandalf." Denethor said oh-so-helpfully.

"Um…dad…that's only strengthening my case…." Faramir pointed out.

Before Denethor could reply, Gandalf added his two cents. "What did I do? Is it my fault you like burning things?"

Denethor crinkled his eyebrows. "Boromir! I order you as the Steward of Gondor to kill this crazy wizard!!"

"Hey, wait a minute buddy! I'm the King of Gondor and I make the rules!!" Aragorn interjected hurriedly.

"Crazy?" Gandalf asked, mostly in rhetoric. "_I'm_ crazy? _Denethor_, Mr. Hey-Let's-play-with-matches-they-won't-start-a-fire-I-promise-and-if-they-do-it-won't-hurt-_that_-much is calling _me_ crazy?"

Boromir stayed in his seat muttering to himself. "I am not getting involved," he offered to no one in particular.

"Hey!" Pippin broke into the commotion. "Let's try and keep it friendly here!"

"No!" Denethor said forcefully. "He ruined my life and my reputation!" he continued, pointing at Aragorn.

"What are you whining about now?" Aragorn said. "You didn't have a life or reputation to begin with!"

Everyone (excluding Denethor and Aragorn of course) was getting extremely tired of the both of them. They all screamed in sync, "SHUT UP!!!"

Denethor put his face in his hands and moaned. "Nobody loves me!"

Pippin seemed slightly creeped out by this and raised his eyebrows. "Um…ok then. Everyone please take your seats. Let's get back to the game. Second question: Who is the _good_ white wizard?"

The beepers beeped again.

Pippin glanced at his screen. "Ok…that was…a tie! Wow! Saruman and Gandalf. Well, gentlemen?"

"Me!" Gandalf and Saruman supplied in unison and then both glared at each other balefully when they realized they'd spoken at the same time.

"It's me!" Gandalf said forcefully.

"No! It's me!" Saruman countered.

Pippin braced himself, knowing that this was going to be awhile. Merry glanced at Frodo and Sam and yawned. Boromir and Faramir rolled their eyes gratuitously. Denethor was still skulking and Aragorn seemed to be dreaming of…uh…_something else_.

"You destroyed half of Middle earth! Maybe even more! How is that good?" Gandalf was screaming now.

"Well its better than what you do! You hang around hobbits, kill stewards and perfectly good Balrogs, and worst of all, you can't even stay that clean!"

"What?!"

"You heard me, _Mithrandir_," Saruman taunted mockingly. "You get all dirty, risking your neck and for what? The race of dumb old men!"

"HEY!" Boromir, Faramir, Denethor, and Aragorn shouted at once.

"Watch who you're insulting!" Aragorn said.

"You may have won a battle, but you lost the war!!" Boromir added. Immediately, remorse set in. "Ahhh! War! Don't remind me! Why did I say that?!"

"THAT IS _ENOUGH_!" Pippin interrupted loudly. "Third question! What individual kills the most Uruks at the battle of Helm's Deep? Remember, it's someone who was in the fellowship!"

The beepers chirped happily.

Pippin glanced at the screen and paled a little. "Well…it's a (gulp) tie again. Legolas and Gimli!"

"The answer," Gimli said smirking, "is Gimli."

"Legolas of course!" supplied Legolas, glaring at the dwarf.

"Gimli is correct," Pippin offered, wincing and waiting for the explosion.

Legolas however narrowed his eyes a bit, but calmly stayed silent. Pippin quirked an eyebrow but decided against commentary.

"Finally someone answered a question correctly besides me" Saruman said aloud.

"What are you talking about?" Faramir asked. "I was right, too!" Saruman only stared at him condescendingly. "Come on, Boromir, let's get out of here," Faramir uttered slightly under his breath but loud enough for the others to hear.

"Yeah…I'm getting out of here!" Boromir agreed.

"I'll come, too!" Denethor said. "We can watch a movie!"

"No thanks!" the brothers said in unison.

"Yeah," said Boromir, "You always watch movies that are…uh…very…how shall I put this…'pro-pyro'." Faramir snickered a little.

"No! I won't! We can watch something else! How about 'Indiana Jones'?

Boromir and Faramir looked at each other. "Run!" they said in unison.

"Wait! Come back!" their father called after them.

"Hey!" Saruman said coming up along side of Denethor. "You like burning things?" Denethor just stared at him in a rather menacing manner. But Saruman was undaunted. "Why don't you come with me? We can come to Mordor together and see the Mountain of Fire!!"

"Um…I…I don't know about this…." Denethor said uncertainly.

"C'mon! It'll be fun!" Gandalf of course couldn't help but overhear them. However, he decided not to comment any on the situation.

"Well…ok" Denethor agreed.

Gimli it seemed also had plans for what to do next. "Come on, Elven princeling. What do you say we practice our moves?"

"No thanks," Legolas returned snidely. "I wouldn't want to hurt you. I mean, your face looks like it hurts already."

"Why you…." And so the fight commenced.

"Come on, Smeagol," Gollum offered. "Let's go find Galadriel, precioussss. I hear she knows somewhere to find a good ring. Heh heh heh…."

Meanwhile Pippin was sitting in mild shock and heavy sadness watching his precious show dissolve into nothing.

"Sorry to leave you all but I have a game to play with Celeborn. Tonight's rummy night! Gotta go!" Aragorn supplied on his way off stage.

"Everyone's leaving!" Pippin moaned. "I'm a failure!"

"There, there, Pippin!" Gandalf said comfortingly. "It's alright! I wish I could stay and help matters but I have to leave. Denethor may very well jump into Mount Doom and we can't have that, now can we?"

Merry left the table where he'd been talking with Sam and Frodo and made his way over to Pippin.

"What do you want?" Pippin asked.

"Come on, Pip. I'm sorry about earlier, me giving you a hard time and all. But don't be sad! Come along with Frodo, Sam, and me. Let's go and get some ale!"

"Alright," Pippin agreed, never one to refuse a proffered drink.

"You know," Sam said as the quartet began to head off stage, "I didn't understand a word they said."

"Neither did I," said Frodo.

"Neither did I," said Merry

"Neither did I," said Pippin. "But then again," he continued, "We are very small."

Laughter circled merrily through the air.

"Wait!" Pippin cried. "I almost forgot!" He ran back over to where he'd originally been standing on the stage. "And that concludes…oh who cares?" he said with a grin.

Merry, Frodo, and Sam all laughed as Pippin made his way over to them again and they all walked happily of stage and continued the never-ending instinctive hobbit search for more good food and ale.

* * *

Any comments are appreciated!!

God bless! Love and hugs to all!

-Sara (and her little sis, too)


	2. The Great Middle earth Game Show, Take 2

**The Great Middle earth Game Show, Take Two

* * *

**By Dene4 & Simply Sara

Disclaimer: Neither of us own Lord of the Rings or any characters recognizable herein. This is all in the sake a fun and amusement, no money is involved. Please also note, we love each character portrayed within and any OOC-ness is for humor purposes only and in no way reflects upon our honest opinions of the character.

Author's Note: Um…looks around nervously…I seem to have…_misplaced_ the lovely second chapter of this story. So…uh…hopes sister is not going to kill her…I tried to _modify_ the original chapter 3 to become the new chapter 2 but that didn't really work out so…I tried to work from what I remembered and build the chapter again. That also did not work.

Good News: My sister did not kill me, and then, one LOVELY day, I opened a drawer, and there it was: The second chapter. So, here it is folks. Sorry it took SO long. Alright…on with the story now. Finally.

* * *

Merry had never really considered himself an ambitious hobbit. Nor a violent one.

In fact, he blamed Pippin's stubbornness and inflexibility. Yep…it was all Pippin's fault.

He didn't quite remember how the argument had started, but all he'd wanted was a chance to host Pippin's game show. Surely that was not such a huge request? The show hadn't really been that big of a success anyway. When he'd pointed this out to Pippin, the Took had slugged him.

From there the argument had quickly descended to little more than an angry sort of scuffle.

"It's MY show!!" Pippin screeched in between left hooks.

"So? You already had a turn!" Merry returned, ducking.

"It's still my turn! It's MY show!"

"No way! You were host last time! Besides, I'm older!"

"I'm taller!" At this, Merry cringed visibly.

"No! Stop it!" he pleaded, his voice coming out more like a growl.

"Three eight! Three eight!" Pippin cackled, hopping around Merry, avoiding all of his shots.

"SAAAAM!" Merry screamed. Pippin's wicked smile wavered for a moment.

"HELP!" Merry added, noting Pippin's worry with pleasure.

Sam entered, wondering what exactly the problem was _now_. He was getting tired of playing referee with these two. He stopped suddenly when he came upon the scene. Merry was throwing punches wildly while Pippin hopped in circles around him, nervously glancing over his shoulder in all directions every so often. Their eyes met, and Pippin squealed. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Frying pan!" Merry called out. Sam hesitated, not really wanting to hurt either of them. However, it was easy to see that Merry was in need of help. He deftly, but somewhat gently, knocked Pippin on the back of his head with his handy frying pan.

"You're welcome," Sam offered grimly, looking down at a now unconscious Pip.

"Thanks," Merry offered with a weak grin, panting for breath.

As if on cue, the contestants began slowly filing in. Merry took in the sight cheerily, as he quickly motioned for Sam to drag Pippin behind stage.

"Please take your se—" Merry began.

"We know the routine," Saruman snapped.

"Right," Merry gulped.

"Excuse me," Eowyn snapped, glaring in Saruman's direction, "Not ALL of us have done this before, thank you."

Eomer raised his eyebrows high. His sister was in a mood again. The siblings had been called in to replace Gollum and Legolas after it became apparent that both were in no condition to attend between Legolas 'injuries incurred via Gimli and Gollum's new 'precioussss' acquired a la Galadriel.

Merry quickly outlined the rules to a skeptical Eowyn and an amenable Eomer. Saruman yawned loudly gaining him a fiery look from Eowyn and a swift whack from Gandalf's staff.

"Watch it buddy!" Saruman whispered shrilly aiming his harsh look in Gandalf's direction. The good wizard merely made a face.

"Alright, Gandalf, Saruman, Boromir, Faramir, Frodo, Aragorn, Gimli, Eowyn, Eomer, Sa—" Merry paused. Uh oh. Sam was backstage tending to Pippin. Merry bit his lip. They needed twelve players. "Well, uh…Sam seems to be missing. Is there anyone who'd like to take his place?"

Aragorn's hand went up. "I've know! Arwen! What about Arwen?"

Boromir rolled his eyes. "Here we go," he said. Faramir snickered. Aragorn pretended not to have heard him.

"Uh…sure," Merry said, thinking it was better than having only eleven players.

Aragorn looked distinctly cheered up. "Hold on, I'll get her." There was silence for a brief moment as all looked at him expectantly. "ARRRRRRWENNNNNNN!!!" He screeched. Everyone winced, except Gandalf. The gathered looked at him questioningly.

"Earplugs," he explained smugly, withdrawing them from his ears. Eowyn rolled her eyes and tapped her foot impatiently.

Suddenly, Arwen appeared. "You called?" she asked. Aragorn smiled.

"How would you like to play a game, dearest?" he asked.

"As long as you're playing, too, lovecakes." Boromir looked as if he would loose his lunch at any moment. Faramir tried in vain to suppress a laugh. However, it mattered not as the two who would be offended seemed to have fallen on the deaf side of things.

That problem solved, Merry looked back at the list only to find himself facing another difficulty. Denethor.

"Ummm…Boromir?" Merry asked, "Is Denethor still with us?"

"You could say that," Boromir offered.

"Sure, why not?" Faramir added.

Merry looked at them both a little perplexed, for he hadn't seen Denethor anywhere so far, but let it go. He was getting tired of trying to start the show: It was best to leave well enough alone.

"Alright then. Everyone, including Denethor, approach the bench," Merry commanded. Everyone began moving to their seats. Once everyone was seated Merry scanned the panel. It soon became apparent however that Denethor was indeed missing. Merry elevated an eyebrow. This wouldn't work without twelve!

"Uh…where's Denethor?" Merry said, looking pointedly in Boromir and Faramir's direction.

"Well you can try to make him come out here if you want to," Boromir said sharing a look with his brother. They both then looked fiercely at Saruman, who suddenly became very interested in the fabric his cloak was made of.

"Why? What happened?" Merry inquired.

"_Someone_," Faramir said, still frowning in Saruman's direction, "Took him to Mount Doom on a fell beast."

"Oh great!" Aragorn exclaimed, mostly under his breath, but not so quietly as to escape Boromir's hearing. Boromir gave him a stony stare.

"He had a little accident," Boromir supplied evenly, returning his gaze to Merry.

"Joy," Merry muttered.

"If it weren't for Gandalf," Boromir added, "My father would be dead right now thanks to Saruman." Saruman tried not to look guilty and Aragorn looked at Gandalf disbelievingly. Gandalf merely forced a smile.

"Luckily he followed Denethor and Saruman on an eagle," Faramir pointed out.

"Well, could you see if he could be persuaded to come out? We do need another player," Merry said.

The brother's nodded and quickly exited.

"Unbelievable," Eowyn muttered. Eomer almost risked comforting her, but decided—wisely—against it.

Merry glanced angrily in Saruman's direction. "What do you have to say about this?!"

"Hey, he leaned off the fell beast and jumped!"

Gandalf rolled his eyes. "Please! Give me a break. I know Denethor likes fire but not _that_ much. Saruman waited till he wasn't looking and then pushed him off!" Aragorn tried his best not to laugh.

Gimli chuckled a little. "Figures," he said simply.

"Liar!" Saruman shouted.

"Call me a liar will you? Fine. You and me. Right now. Let's go.

"Bring it on! I've already beaten you once!"

"What's all the shouting about?"

Everyone turned at the sound. As Denethor entered, looking a little…crisp. His sons trailed behind him, smiling nervously.

All were silent except for Gimli who made a noise that was probably supposed to sound like a cough and Aragorn who was a little less discreet.

"Holy Gondor!" he exclaimed, "What in all of Middle-earth happened to you? Are you okay?"

Denethor walked by him, ignoring him completely. Arwen didn't like this very much.

"Excuse me! My husband, the _King_ of Gondor just asked you a question. Answer him!" she exclaimed.

Denethor stared at her coldly and his hands began to shake.

"Here we go," Faramir mumbled.

"Forgive him," Boromir said, looking around at them all, "The fire did something to his head."

Denethor gave his elder son a look and deliberately stuck his hand in his pocket.

"Father, no!" Boromir said, "Don't! I know the urge is strong, but don't give in!" Denethor still said nothing but did remove his hand from his pocket, relinquishing his grip on the matches.

They all once again took their seats. Once Denethor was seated he looked at everyone in turn, pronouncing, "The next time someone upsets me, watch out!" He cackled under his breath.

Eowyn crinkled her face, "What a freak!" she muttered.

Denethor whipped his head around in her direction and quickly stood in one fluid motion.

Eowyn glanced at Eomer who stood just as quickly and fixed Denethor with a stare of his own.

"Leave her alone or you will answer to me!"

"Bring it on horse-boy" Denethor proclaimed.

"Horse-boy?" Eomer queried, a dangerous blaze growing in his eyes.

Denethor grinned.

Everyone immediately decided to take sides, except for Arwen who looked exasperated.

"Come on, Eomer!" Aragorn yelled.

"Go Dad!" shouted Faramir, earning himself a cold stare from Eomer.

"Uh…did I say 'Go Dad!'? I meant 'Go Eomer!'" he quickly said, grinning uneasily.

Between Eomer and Denethor trading insults and everyone else shouting out cheers and boos, the noise level was hitting a new decibel.

Suddenly a strange voice broke through the noise.

"FLAM LE BOORA!" it said. "Chick ye TUM BA! Boola goola hoola BAM!!!

Everyone ceased screaming and moving, confused.

"What did you say?" Merry asked from where he'd been sitting dejectedly, watching his turn as host going much the same way Pip's had, if not worse.

"I have no idea. But it sounded cool and made you all be quiet!"

Arwen rolled her eyes and huffily announced, "I'm leaving! This isn't a game, this is just childish!"

She made to leave and Aragorn quickly got up and went after her. "Wait for me!" he exclaimed.

Eowyn noted his exit from the corner of her eye and decided it was time for her exit as well.

Frodo looked around, having been taking it all in quiet contemplation. "Hey Merry!" he called, "Where's Sam?"

"Backstage helping Pippin," he said trying not to sigh.

"Oh," Frodo said, shrugging, but he made no move to leave.

As if to simply contradict Merry, Sam came walking out, taking in the scene, but making no comment.

"There you are, Sam!" Frodo exclaimed, getting up and moving toward him. Sam smiled and waved.

"Hey, since this is turning into a disaster again, no offense Merry, what do you say we head over to the Green Dragon for some ale?"

"Sure!" Sam replied enthusiastically. "But forget about paying. Rosie always has free ale for me and my friends," Sam said a little too loud.

"Take me!" exclaimed Gimli.

"And me!" Eomer added.

"Free ale!" exclaimed Boromir.

"I want some!" Merry yelled, looking cheered up at the sound of free drinks.

"Eh…Go, Frodo! RUN!" Sam exclaimed. Both made a hasty exit.

Sighs escaped several lips. Denethor had reclaimed his seat and was sitting quietly taking all in with an all but unchanging expression.

The curtain on the left began moving and those still left turned to see what it was.

Pippin came teetering out from behind the curtain, mumbling incoherently and tilting this way and that as he 'walked'.

Merry's eyes widened and he made a quick and wordless exit. Pippin plopped haplessly into a seat next to Denethor, whose eyebrows twitched. The hobbit yawned hugely.

"Woah…," he said, looking around, "What's going on here?" he turned to Denethor as his vision focused. He jumped about a good foot off his chair and landed on his feet, eyes wide, mouth open. Simply acrobatic he was. Denethor, however, was not impressed, but insulted. He stared coldly at the hobbit for what seemed like an eternity to those watching in interest, waiting to see what he'd do. His gaze crumpled though and he let his head slide to the table and buried his face in his folded arms.

"Nobody loves me," he complained to his elbows, the sound coming out slightly muffled, "Everyone hates me."

"I…don't hate you," Pippin supplied pathetically.

Denethor quickly stood up once more, not looking at the hobbit at all and quickly exited. Boromir and Faramir exchanged sighs.

"Now look what you did!" Boromir exclaimed.

"Do you have any idea how long it takes to find him sometimes?" Faramir asked.

Pippin forced a smile, "Uh…sorry?" he offered.

"Oh no, that's not going to get you out of this! You're coming with us to help! You're the one who made him run away!" Boromir announced. Faramir nodded his approval and off they all went, Pippin trying to charm his way out of it. Unfortunately for him, the brothers were not daunted.

"Well…"Eomer said looking around, and resting his gaze on Gandalf. "What do you say we blow this joint?"

"Please! Let's go!" Gandalf nodded ardently. They made to leave as Saruman tried to follow after them.

"Wait!" Saruman called out, running to catch up.

"Well here I am, all by myself; imagine that," Gimli said to no one in particular, "Hmmm. Might as well leave, I guess."

But before he could, a familiar voice reached his ears.

"Where is everyone?" said Legolas, stepping out from the right of the stage, arm in a sling, one eye bruised, leaning on a cane for support, as one leg was bandaged to the knee. His gaze settled on Gimli.

"Uh oh," Gimli said.

"Yeah, you're gonna bet 'uh oh'," Legolas exclaimed. "Look what you did to me!" he screeched.

"Hey it was fair fight!" Gimli said in his defense, "And besides, I can't talk right now, as I was just leaving."

"You can wait a second or two," Legolas said forcefully. "And no you did NOT fight fair! You fought dirty, you dwarf!"

"It was too fair! Is it my fault you can't fight?"

"I can so fight! _You_ sat on me! You call that fair?!" Legolas grabbed his beard.

Gimli laughed nervously, "I refuse to answer that question on the premises that you may snatch my beard clean off." Gimli calmly kicked his stomach causing Legolas to make a very unattractive sound and loose his grip.

"Bye!" the dwarf said, and zipped out of the room with surprising speed.

Legolas did his best to hobble after him, shouting insults all the way.

* * *

Reviewer Response:

To All: Thank you all so much for reviewing! You guys are great! You make writing this all the more enjoyable. =D

Noldo—Very pleased to hear you find it funny! Thanks for the head's up about the errors. You seem to have a knack for pointing them out to me. Not that I mind or anything. : ) Arguments often are the best parts of LotR humor fics IMHO. Hope you liked this chapter, too!

IrethAncalime3791—Since your story "Remember Erkenbrand" is so wonderful, it's flattering to hear you find this story funny. Denethor the pyro: a favorite subject of mine [grins]. Glad to know it amuses someone else, too! : ) God bless!

Erestor—[smiles] Thrilled you find this amusing! I pointed out the fact that Pippin probably had a time trying to keep order to my sister when I first read this and she just grinned. I think she likes creating all but impossible situations and trying to make them work. I'm sure Faramir & Boromir would like watching Dr. Jones with their father if the movies simply involved less fire.

Thanks so much for reading! : ) Next chapter up next week or sooner!

God bless,

Sara and Dene4


	3. The Great Middle earth Game Show, Take 3

**The Great Middle earth Game Show, Take 3****

* * *

**

by Dene4 & Simply Sara

Disclaimer: Neither of us own Lord of the Rings or any characters recognizable herein.

This one was almost finished before I found part 2, so I thought, "Hey! Why not update right away?"

Enjoy! (We hope)

* * *

Although certain individuals viewed both the initial attempts and all subsequent attempts at creating a game show for Middle earth's inhabitants as somewhat ill-starred shall we say, certain _other_ individuals thought that Pippin had had a good idea, Merry had done a little better with that idea, but they both were just a little too nice and not at all cunning enough to pull it off.

Well…okay. So it was really only _one_ certain other individual who thought this. Most people knew him as Saruman and Saruman was sure that he could pull off the 'game show gig' as he put it, and triumph where some silly and witless hobbits had failed miserably. His words, not mine.

Anyway, he had _again_ gathered, or at least he'd tried to gather, those lovely individuals who'd made the first shows such a success. Saruman was a firm believer in the use of heavy and frequent sarcasm to achieve his ends, you see.

By now word had travelled far and wide about the 'game show' and it had in fact acquired quite a following among the inhabitants of Middle earth. Unfortunately, all were hard-pressed to try and convince the game's past participants to participate once more. But Saruman had his ways, and they were good—in a manner of speaking.

It had been impossible to keep the plans and preparations for the show from being found out, and so rumors had spread like wildfire through all Middle earth, keeping virtually everyone nattering on endlessly about who would host, who would show, who would skip, etcetera, etcetera. There had been reports of constant changes to the official list of players, each new "official" list grabbing the attention of all.

One of the most popular rumors, however, (much to Saruman's chagrin) was that a certain Samwise Gamgee would be hosting. Of course, this had the whole Shire in an uproar, all hobbits in avid support of one of their own being the host of such a prestigious and esteemed show. Cough. Saruman naturally did his best to nip this rumor.

Reporters had tried to reach Sam for comment, but he'd declined all interviews and denied reports that he was in fact the new host. Pippin had given up hope and Merry was not too keen on trying his hand at such a "vicious business" again, as he'd been quoted as declaring in several newspapers, including the Pelennor Post and the Mirkwood Times. This left most wondering who the next host would be. This made Saruman cackle evilly.

Finally the day had come, the would-be contestants gathered expectantly backstage, some of them noshing on various snacks, some of them chattering idly, some of them silently waiting, all of them hidden from the hoards of screaming fans waiting before the stage.

Suddenly, the curtain arose, the screams heightened, and out stepped Saruman, stridently moving towards the podium standing on the left of the stage. The crowds went suddenly still. Saruman gave them all a rather frightening grin and then began. "Hello, and welcome to the Great Middle earth Game Show. I am your host, Sar—".

The rest of what he said was drowned out in the sounds of fangirlish wailing.

"SAAAAAAAMMM!!!" a voice from the crowd screamed.

"BOOOOOO! Where's SAM?!" another proclaimed.

"We want SAM!!!" another protested.

Saruman raised an eyebrow fixed them all with an even glare.

"SAaaaM!" another voice piped up.

"Humph!" declared Saruman indignantly, "I'm your host whether you like it or not!"

"NO WAY! SAM! NOW!" screeched another member of the audience. Saruman gritted his teeth menacingly and fixed them with his best Balrog impersonation.

The crowd was now getting out of control, all of them screaming in favor of Samwise. Saruman was not one to accept defeat easily, but the fangirls of Middle earth had a reputation for getting to just about anyone. He waited a few more moments before growling and making his way offstage.

Meanwhile, the cries of the incensed fans had carried backstage to where Sam was trying his best not to look intimidated. Merry and Frodo were trying to get him to go out and host.

"Go, Sam! Go!" Merry implored. "They're calling for _you_! They want you to host the show. You can do it!"

"I can't. I couldn't" Sam insisted.

Frodo couldn't help but admire his friend's humility and timidity when it came to large crowds of screaming people. "Go on, Sam," he said softly. "This is your chance to shine." He winked.

Sam sighed but smiled bravely and made his way onstage, talking to himself under his breath, presumably trying to steel himself for the swarms of fans awaiting him.

As he walked past, Boromir couldn't help but notice Sam's personal dialogue.

"See," he said turning to Faramir, "I'm not the only one who talks to myself." Faramir just gave him a look. Denethor, who was sitting nearby, rolled his eyes, but made no verbal comment.

Sam stepped out from behind the curtain and raised a hand to shield his eyes from the bright lights. Saruman had gone all out in building the set. They didn't call him the Many-Coloured for nothing.

Screams of joy echoed all around.

"IT'S SAM!!!" they all seemed to be screaming. Sam smiled bravely and hid a grimace. He stopped before the podium and paused for a brief moment, trying to gather his thoughts about him in the midst of all the noise. He straightened the papers on the stand, and looked towards the crowd.

"Uh…Hello," he began.

"HE TALKED!!!" someone screamed out. He tried not to make a face.

"Welcome to the Great Middle earth Game Show; I'm Samwise Gamgee and I'll be your host this evening.

The screaming continued.

"WE LOVE YOU!" a voice called out. Sam blushed, but smiled boldly, getting used to his surroundings.

"Well, if you could, I'd like to ask you to quiet down a bit so we can begin."

The audience obediently went silent. Sam grinned, starting to like this.

"Well, okay then. Let's get started and meet our contestants, shall we? First we have Gandalf…" Sam began pausing for screams between each name he pronounced: Merry, Pippin, Boromir, Faramir, Denethor, Eomer, Eowyn, Gimli, and Legolas. "And our 12th contestant this evening is…" Sam looked down at the paper "Alithriel," he said, wondering who that was. An Elven maiden made her way to the chair nearest Legolas. Gimli stood.

"_Who_ in all of Arda is _that_?" he inquired. Legolas glowered fiercely at him.

"This just happens to be my girlfriend, in fact," he proclaimed, daring the dwarf to discount her any further. Gimli narrowed his eyes but made no further comments.

Sam turned, a little worried, but continued. "Alright. Now that—" he stopped abruptly. "Where's Pippin?" he asked. Merry looked around nervously. "Well, he was backstage eating with Frodo and me and then…I…well I haven't seen him since." The crowd seemed to be seated on the edge of their seats. Sam made a face.

"This game doesn't work without 12 people!" he exclaimed.

Faramir sighed and stood. "I think I may know where to find him."

Sam eyed him curiously. "Could you hurry?" Faramir nodded and swiftly left leaving Boromir looking confused.

Sam turned back to the audience. "Sorry about this brief delay." The crowd simply stared towards the stage hungrily. Sam tried not to be nervous.

"Are you alright?" Legolas asked, looking towards Alithriel.

"Oh don't you worry about me, dollface. I'll be fine," she crooned back.

"Yes, you are," Legolas coolly replied. They both giggled. It was lucky Boromir wasn't seated near them. Eomer, fortunately, had a stronger stomach, not to mention poorer hearing, and Gimli was wise enough to just ignore them both.

Faramir returned within a few minutes, Pippin slumping along behind him.

"Is this who you were looking for?" Faramir inquired.

"Pippin!" Merry exclaimed. "Where were you?"

Pippin forced a smile.

"He was in my closet eating my scarves. Again!" Faramir answered for him.

Everyone made a face.

"Um…they were red," Pippin explained. "They looked like bacon."

"Yeah…well now I don't have any more scarves!" Faramir cried.

"Eowyn could make you some more," Pippin suggested.

Eowyn glared. "Excuse me?! _Me_ knit scarves? I don't think so!"

Eomer stood and fixed Pippin with a fierce stare. "You just made my sister mad! Brace yourself!" The crowd watched the drama unfold, avidly awaiting the next move.

Faramir moved in front of Pippin. "I'm sure he didn't mean—" Faramir was suddenly silenced as Eomer's fist connected squarely with his stomach.

"Oomph," went Faramir. Clunk went his head against the table as he fell to the floor.

"Oops," stated Eomer flatly.

"Look what you did!" Boromir exclaimed rising and going to his brother. "Now he's unconscious!"

"I was aiming for him!" Eomer said by way of apology, pointing at Pippin, who had quickly retreated to his seat. Boromir fixed him with a cool stare.

"If he's dead, we can burn him," Denethor proclaimed, standing up and coming over to Faramir's side to inspect the damage.

Boromir sighed exasperated. "Dad, he's just unconscious."

"I was just saying," Denethor replied.

"IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE?!" Sam yelled, smart hobbit that he was.

Gandalf stood and came forward. "Step aside," he said to Eomer, Boromir, and Denethor. Boromir and Eomer moved out of his way. Denethor stood and held out a hand, stopping the wizard.

"Why should I let you touch my kid?" he inquired, squarely meeting Gandalf's gaze.

"Because I'm gonna help him?"

"Was that a question or a statement?" Denethor inquired icily.

Gandalf rolled his eyes. "What did it sound like?"

Denethor narrowed his eyes menacingly but didn't answer.

Gandalf sighed. "A statement," he said huffily, "Happy now?"

"No," Denethor said forcefully, but he moved to the side.

"Thanks," Gandalf said bitingly. Denethor made faces at his back. Boromir tried not to laugh. Eomer just looked worried.

"Is he gonna be okay?" he inquired with no small amount of trepidation. Gandalf gave him a look. Eomer met it evenly.

"Just give me a minute, okay?" Eomer nodded.

Gandalf rested a hand on Faramir's head and whispered something. Denethor crossed his arms.

"By the power vested in me, Brother Faramir, be healed!" He proclaimed loudly. Denethor raised his eyebrows.

"Uh, he's _my_ brother," Boromir muttered.

"We know that," Frodo said, and then added, "stupid" under his breath. Unfortunately, Denethor heard him.

"_Don't_ call him stupid!" he said.

"I think_ I_ earned the right to call him whatever I want," Frodo stated evenly.

"Uh…he's still _my_ brother," Boromir pointed out intelligently.

"Quiet," Denethor said, rolling his eyes, getting exasperated not so much with Boromir, but with everything else. "Stupid," he muttered to himself.

"Oh hold up!" Frodo said, "You just called him stupid!"

"He's my son," Denethor returned. "Besides," he mimicked, "I think I have the right to call him whatever I want." Frodo narrowed his eyes dangerously. Meanwhile, Faramir had returned to his seat, a little dazed, Boromir and Eomer aiding him.

"You still called him stupid," Frodo said.

"Wait, who's stupid?" Boromir inquired, seated once more.

"You!" Frodo and Denethor said in unison. Denethor gave Frodo a dangerous look.

"I said, don't call him stupid!" Denethor proclaimed.

"ALRIGHT!" Sam said forcefully, sensing this was getting _way_ out of hand. "That is ENOUGH!"

Everyone got quiet. They only got paid if Sam asked at least 3 questions before the hour was up. Money: the great silencer.

"Everyone, take your seats once more, if you please. Thank you. Now, let's begin. First question: Who is the greatest at killing orcs?

Alithriel stood and raised her hand.

"Legolas," she stated simply. Gimli rolled his eyes.

Legolas put a hand on his heart, touched. "Oh, thank you, dearest!" Alithriel smiled dazzlingly.

"Hey!" Boromir said all of a sudden. "Denethor and Frodo called me stupid." Denethor looked at his eldest son disbelievingly. Faramir just looked lost. Frodo rolled his eyes.

"There is no way he's going to be able to ask and find the right answer for 3 questions in the next 10 minutes," Denethor remarked to the person on his left, who happened to be Frodo.

Frodo looked at him for a moment. "True," he replied, sensing that Denethor had put the argument behind them. "No money."

"Yep, sure looks that way. What do you say we leave, go get a few drinks?" Denethor inquired looking at Merry, Pippin, and Frodo now.

The hobbits nodded enthusiastically and stood, Denethor following suit.

"Uh…"Sam sputtered, looking speechless.

"Sorry," Frodo said, "We just can't take it anymore. You tried." Merry nodded.

"Catch you later," Pippin said. The four exited quickly. "PARTY!" One of them (presumably NOT Denethor) screamed once they were offstage. The crowd looked ready to kill. Sam grinned nervously.

"Well…" he said, "The answer is actually umm…." But no one was listening.

"We are obviously surrounded by inferiors, dearest. Shall we depart?" Alithriel inquired of Legolas.

"Of course, love. Whatever you like." Alithriel grinned brightly. The pair made their way offstage and as they were passing Gimli, Alithriel casually dropped a rock on his head (His helmet was being dry-cleaned). He slumped in his seat.

"Not again!" wailed Sam.

"Don't look at me!" warned Gandalf, "I've had enough for one day." Sam pushed a button on the podium and some men with a stretcher came in and whisked Gimli away.

Boromir leaned over to Eowyn. "Hey! I could tell you some funny stories about my brother!" Eowyn gave him a look.

"Faramir?"

"Only brother I got!" Boromir said. Eowyn seemed to weigh the proposition carefully.

"Boromir," Faramir complained. "No! That's not even funny!" Eowyn glanced at the would-be subject of Boromir's storytelling.

"Sure," she said smiling, in Faramir's direction. Faramir forced a smile. "We could get some ale or something, too!" She added.

Eomer raised an eyebrow. "You drink, now? When did this happen?" Eowyn rolled her eyes.

"Are you coming with us or not?" Eomer stared at her a moment longer before shrugging and rising from his seat.

Faramir gave his brother a look. "You just wait! I'm coming, too!" Boromir shrugged and turned to leave, Eowyn and Eomer following. "Ugh…I don't believe this," Faramir muttered, catching up.

"Gandalf," Sam intoned sadly, "I believe this show is cursed."

Gandalf nodded sagely. "You better leave before the hordes attack."

Sam peeked at the crowds behind his shoulder. They looked very angry.

"Good idea."

He zipped offstage.

Gandalf turned and faced them all. "As you can see," he said, "this show is merely set up for failure. It is NEVER going to work. You may all now return to your previous engagements and/or alternative activities. Thank you." The crowd began making sounds that sounded an awful lot like feral snarls and the hunting calls of certain species of rabid quadrupeds, most prominently the warg.

But Gandalf _was_ a wizard after all. He had nothing to fear.

But why leave it to chance?

He bolted offstage in the most dignified manner possible.

* * *

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, all of you! It's a treat to hear what you think!

Reviewer Response:

Celias23—YAY! A new reviewer! Very happy to hear you are enjoying this! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, too.

Erestor—Sam and his good old frying pan…you just have to love him : ). Denethor certainly is a trip, isn't he? =D Thanks for the kind review!

IrethAncalime3791—Aww, RE's not junk! = ) It's quite funny actually! It's almost like you HAVE to look "everywhere" before you can find anything. You should see me try to keep tabs on my library card. You think I could hold on to something like that at least. Faramir was supporting his dad for the sake of the line, I think. At least that's what my sister tells me. Saruman is rather funny guilty! : ) Glad you found it laughable! We certainly try. Is this soon enough? [grins]

We haven't yet begun drafting a fourth part, so if any of you have ideas, you know who to call! ; )

God bless!

Sara & Dene4


	4. The Great Middle earth Game Show, Take 4

**The Great Middle earth Game Show, Take 4**

* * *

By Dene4 & Simply Sara 

Disclaimer: Neither of us own Lord of the Rings or any characters recognizable herein.

HaHA! It has been written and typed up and posted and it may indeed have taken us over a month and well…but…well…its here now. That's gotta count for something, right? : )

Now rated PG, just to be safe.

Featuring two of Simply Sara's Original Sayings™. My sister must really love me grins.

* * *

You would think he had been through enough in his life. He'd lost a small but nevertheless worthy and important appendage, he'd carried an evil, evil burden across hundreds and hundreds of miles, he'd even had to deal with the lousy, schizophrenic guides often provided by Yes, We Are the Brilliant Valar, Inc. and yet, still he had agreed to bring this doom upon himself. Or, well, this prestige upon himself, depending on your vantage point, I guess.

No matter how you looked at it, however, prestige and doom weren't exactly two things the celebrated Frodo Baggins was in want of. But he'd grown rather bored as of late as he'd explained to Sam and Merry and Pippin over some drinks one evening. So, when he'd volunteered to host the next episode of the Great Middle earth Game Show, none of them were particularly surprised.

Which is to say nothing, however, of the drink Saruman choked on when he went to read his morning paper one day and 'boom!', there was the headline, big and bold and on the front page:

**FRODO FINDS NEW CALLING: **_From 'envoy' to 'entertainer'_

After he'd recovered from choking, Saruman's next thought had been that no matter what, he would not stoop to the level of becoming a contestant once more. And then a letter had arrived a few days later detailing the, uh, _benefits_ those who agreed to be contestants were getting and suddenly, things didn't seem too bad. The perks had definitely improved since the first outing.

And so it was that the fourth episode found its way into creation. The fateful day which the show had been scheduled for is where our chapter truly begins.

The fans were certainly avid in their anticipation (as is to be suspected I suppose) and the theatre was packed. Some of them were rabid, some of them only had one or two screws loose but certainly all of them were crazy in one sense or another. Isn't everyone after all?

"Hello folks! Boy, are we glad to see you all here tonight! And you're all glad to be here, too, eh?" Frodo inquired of the audience in a manner that suggested he already knew the answer.

The crowd roared.

"Well, then…I'd like to welcome you toooo…the one…the only…Middle…earth…Game Show!!!" Frodo declared dramatically

Sam turned to Pip and Merry, seated in the balcony in a section all their own (never can be too careful with besotted fans about). "He always did have a flair for drama," he commented.

The crowd screamed in delight.

"I'm sure you're all eager to begin, so," here Frodo winked, causing the fangirls to swoon, "If you could all quiet down it'd be great."

You could have heard a pin drop if someone had been so inclined and/or equipped. The crickets seemed to take this as their cue and began chirping a little louder.

"And now the contestants!" Frodo proclaimed.

"Gimli! Eomer! Legolas! Denethor! Saruman! Faramir! Arwen! Gandalf! Eowyn! Boromir! Aragorn! And…" Frodo paused and squinted down at the card. "Lith…Loth…La…Lothuriel?" He pronounced unsurely, somewhat confused"

"That's Lothiriel, darling," said…well, Lothiriel stepping on to the stage and taking a seat next to Eomer. "The lovely wife of KING Eomer," she added with a look in Arwen's direction.

"Hmmph!" Arwen muttered under her breath.

Eomer smiled dazzlingly at his beloved wife who couldn't help but smile back.

Saruman crinkled his nose. "Oh please! I think I'm gonna blow pipeweed!"

Eomer turned and fixed him with The Eomer Scowl™ "Shut. Up." he offered simply.

"Uh guys?" said Frodo noticing a slight problem, "Where's Legolas?"

Gimli cackled. "I knew it!" he proclaimed triumphantly. "I knew he'd be too chicken to show his face! Ever since Alithree-whatever-her-name-really-was dumped him he's been going downhill."

"And that, my friend," said Legolas stepping on to the stage, flanked by not one, but three, beautiful women "is where you would be _wrong_." Gimli's mouth dropped open.

Frodo scrunched his eyebrows. "Uh who exactly are you guys?" he said, gesturing towards the three women who had magically found chairs next to Legolas to sit down in although Frodo was sure the stage had been set up with only twelve.

"_We_ are the Legolas fan club," said the blonde one.

"The what?" said Gimli.

"The who?" said Frodo.

"Uh, that's not fair!" exclaimed Arwen. "Aragorn is a king for goodness sake's and he doesn't have a fan club!"

A few audience members who were wearing shirts that looked suspiciously like they had pictures of said king on them snickered.

"That's okay, honey. You're all the fan club I need," Aragorn said, smiling sweetly at his beloved.

Arwen brightened.

Saruman looked disgusted, mostly because he was. "Ugh…I'd rather have a palantir drop on my head than listen to these two!" he commented to person on his left who was (unfortunately) a little bit sensitive on the issue of palantiri.

"Palantir? AHHHH!!! Save me!" Denethor exclaimed.

Boromir gave Saruman a dangerous look. "Watch it," he declared.

Saruman waited until Boromir turned to his father again before he made a face.

The blonde member of Legolas' fan club turned to Denethor. "Are you in special ed?" she asked brightly.

Faramir coughed.

"Alright, alright, people! That is quite enough!" Frodo stated in a no-nonsense tone.

"Well?" Gimli said, looking in Legolas' direction, "You remember our bet I'm sure. So do it!"

Legolas paused.

"What's a matter? Scared? Scared-y elf!"

Frodo tapped his foot impatiently.

"NO, I'm not scared. You just wait here." Legolas went backstage.

"What's he doing?" the red-head Lego-fan asked.

"My question exactly," muttered Frodo.

"He lost the bet," Gimli explained.

"I believe we've all gathered that much," Saruman said bitingly.

"I wasn't finished," Gimli returned.

"Pray, forgive my outburst," Saruman added sardonically.

Gimli forced a smile that looked more like a "I-would-love-nothing-more-than-to-throw-a-rock-at-your-head" grimace. "He said he could take down an oliphaunt in 15 seconds. As a matter of fact, it took him sixteen."

'That's not fair!" exclaimed the blonde.

"He has to dress up like a girl." Gimli offered smugly. "He won't do it though. He's probably high-tailing it out of here as we speak."

"Wrong again," offered Legolas stepping onstage.

Every jaw dropped.

"Bless my Balrog," breathed Saruman.

"Camera, anyone have one?" asked the raven-haired member of Legolas' fan club.

"Wow!" squealed the red-head.

"What a hunk!" commented the blonde one.

Each who heard her comment felt their faces twist into what can only be described as an expression of nauseation. Arwen felt her face turn green.

Gimli sputtered. "Uh, excuse me? Did you just say 'What a hunk?' He's dressed up like a girl for Eru's sake! How is that, in any way, manly?"

"It takes a very secure man to dress up like a girl, doesn't it ladies?" the blonde one queried.

"It sure does!" said the one with raven-tresses.

"Mm-hm. Yep. That's true!" agreed the red-head.

Saruman rolled his eyes. "Please! I could turn myself INTO a girl and I don't have a fan club!"

"You can?" inquired Gandalf.

"Of course I can!" Saruman exclaimed.

Gandalf smiled. "Then do it."

"Uh…nn…nnnow?" stuttered Saruman.

Gandalf's smile widened. "Yes."

Legolas coughed and went backstage to return to his normally scheduled attire.

Frodo interjected: "Come on you guys. This is a game show and not exactly the place to discuss…such things. FIRST QUESTION!" he pronounced. "Who is the King of Rohan?"

Saruman beeped his beeper first.

"Yes, Saruman?" asked Frodo.

"Sauron."

Denethor rolled his eyes. "No, its Theoden."

Eowyn sniffed. "Not anymore. He's dead." She burst into an uncharacteristic batch of tears.

Faramir hugged her. "Its alright," he consoled.

Denethor looked contrite. "I'm sorry," he offered, tearing up.

Boromir turned to his father, "Its okay, Dad!" he said.

"No its not! He died saving our city! Our country!" Denethor countered.

"Uh…you're right," Boromir offered, sniffling a little. "What a guy."

"Tell me about it," added Eomer, tears welling. Lothiriel held his hand.

"Good old Theoden," Gimli offered.

Legolas took his seat, having missed the reason for solemnity and turned an inquiring eyebrow to his dwarven friend.

"Theoden," he offered, sighing.

"Ah," Legolas said, hanging his head.

Soon everyone was crying or just about too, excluding Saruman and the three fangirls onstage of course.

"Uh…excuse me…but who the heck is 'Theodon' or whoever?"

"Theo_den_, as it is, just happens to be my deceased uncle who used to be the KING of Rohan. He died defending us all including you, I presume, ungrateful though you may be. My former self would have pummeled you for that little comment, but since my uncle's death, I have become very SENSITIVE. I am now Mr. Smooth®" Eomer stated matter-of-factly.

Lothiriel beamed. "Oh dearest, you are completely brilliant! The perfect mix of sensitivity and strength! The perfect king for Rohan!"

Mr. Smooth® tried very hard not to look smug. "Thank you, darling."

"Ahem!" Frodo half-coughed, half-said. "Question number two. Who is the greatest king in all of Middle earth? We've polled our audience to find the answer. Your choices are as follows: Aragorn, Eomer, Thranduil, or Theoden.

Faramir buzzed his buzzer first.

"Faramir?" Frodo asked.

"Aragorn," he answered evenly, making Aragorn grin. Denethor twitched.

"Do you have something in your eye?" asked Gandalf. Denethor cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes.

Boromir couldn't help but overhear. "Are you trying to start something?"

"No," Gandalf offered. "Just asking a question."

"Just asking a question," Denethor mimicked under his breath. Legolas chuckled.

"Well, Faramir—" Frodo began.

"Uh excuse me?" Eowyn interrupted, looking pointedly at Faramir. "What happened to loyalty here? You were supposed to pick Theoden, or at least Eomer!" Eomer squinted and then relaxed: Sisters! He shook his head.

Meanwhile Faramir was looking at Eowyn like she was crazy.

"What?!" she said in response to his expression. "We are married now you know! A little fealty might be nice!"

Faramir narrowed his eyes. "Actually, I don't have to pick Theoden or Eomer or anyone else directly related to you. See, I'm a free man, free will and all that."

"Oh, not anymore, buddy," she returned. "No, no. Now, you're married to me."

Boromir disguised his chuckle with a cough.

"Drama, drama, drama, drama" Faramir replied.

The crowds munched on their popcorn interestedly.

Eowyn made a face. "Oh go impale yourself on an orc arrow."

"Go knock your arm into a Nazgûl!"

"Go set yourself on fire!"

"Ha! Why don't you go sing that little funeral song for your cousin! Yeah! No wonder he's dead."

"UH! Just what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

The audience sipped their sodas contentedly.

"'Just what is that supposed to mean'," Faramir mimicked. Meanwhile, Legolas' fangirls were ignoring the little spatz, instead discussing the pros and cons of 'mega-volume conditioner' as opposed to 'super-volume shampoo plus' as the two hair products related to Legolas' tresses. Much more interesting topics, don't you think?

"You know what? You're a smart girl Eowyn I think you _know_ what that means!"

"Oooh!" she screeched, "I'm leaving!"

Frodo, having been searching for a pause so that he might affirm Faramir's answer, choose that seemingly opportune moment to do so. "Aragorn is indeed the correct answer."

Eowyn's eyes widened as she stomped passed the podium and kicked it, missing the stand and instead connecting with Frodo's ankle causing him to trip and knock his head on the podium, which happened to be made of solid wood. He collapsed to the floor. Not such an opportune moment after all, I think you'll agree.

"Woah," said Boromir taking in the scene. "Déjà vu."

"Tell me about it," said Denethor "I remember this one time, when your mother decided that…uh…never mind."

Gandalf walked over to Frodo and whispered a few words over him. Then, he loudly proclaimed "By the power vested in me, brother Frodo, be healed!"

Boromir cocked an eyebrow. "Does Frodo even have a brother?" he asked. Denethor sighed, rolled his eyes and sank a little lower in his seat.

Frodo rose his head a little, seeming dazed. "Oh, my aching head…" he croaked and slumped back to the ground, eyes closed once more.

"Uh oh," said Gandalf. Saruman snickered.

"Frodo?" Denethor asked. "Are you okay?"

"Obviously not, oh brilliant one," Saruman offered condescendingly.

"Shut up!" Faramir said, turning to Saruman. "Leave him alone!"

Denethor's eyes twitched. "Nobody loves me," he mumbled to no one in particular.

"Dad…I love you!" Faramir offered. Denethor smiled.

"I love you, too!" offered Saruman.

"Really?" inquired Denethor.

"No!" laughed Saruman.

Denethor contracted his eyebrows menacingly.

"Shut up!" Faramir repeated.

Denethor looked wounded.

"Dad…I wasn't talking to you! I was talking to Mr. Sarcasm over there," Faramir said, jerking a thumb towards Saruman.

"Oh," Denethor observed.

"Who me?" queried Saruman, grinning toothily, before falling to the floor.

Eomer sniffed and uncurled his fist. "My sensitivity only goes so far," he said to the now unconscious Saruman. Lothiriel swooned.

"Uh, if Frodo doesn't wake up soon, we don't get paid! Again!" Aragorn offered.

"FRODO, WAKE UP!" everyone shouted together. Money—the great equalizer.

"Who can help us now?" asked Gimli.

"He has fallen into shadow" offered Arwen, channeling her grandmother.

"SAM!" Aragorn exclaimed.

"Did someone call for me?" asked Samwise, peeking around the corner.

"Yes! Come help us wake up Frodo!" implored Legolas.

"Wait," said Boromir, looking at Sam, "what are you doing here?"

"Saving the day," Sam observed. "Hey, Frodo! I've got some delicious, free ale if you wake up right now!"

Silence.

"He's not faking," Sam offered.

"Now what?" inquired Lothiriel.

"Watch," returned Gandalf.

Sam pulled out his frying pan and deftly knocked Frodo over the head with it.

"I bet he's wanted to do _that_ for a while," Boromir commented to Faramir, who chuckled.

"Woah!" Frodo sat up suddenly.

"See…works every time!" proclaimed Sam.

"I had a really weird dream!" Frodo exclaimed. Saruman groaned from his place on the floor.

"Want me to wake him up, too?" he proffered.

"Uh no," Denethor said, "He's fine as he is."

Everyone quickly agreed.

Sam nodded knowingly. "Gotcha. Well…see you all later then."

"So," Frodo began, "What are you guys doing again?"

"Waiting," offered Eomer.

"For…" Frodo asked.

"The third question."

"Oh, that. Right. First, we're getting rid of him," Frodo said, pointing to Saruman who was beginning to stir.

"But then we won't have twelve players!" Arwen declared, ever the voice of reason.

"Right....." Frodo bit his lip, deep in thought.

"One of us could play!" The red-head squealed.

Frodo chuckled nervously. "I don't think so."

"Well, its not like he's not still here! Its his fault he got knocked out! Nobody complained about the rules when Eowyn left. Just as she has forfeited her right to play by leaving in anger, so did Saruman when he opened his sarcastic mouth and let out his words without thought of the consequences."

Everyone stared at Boromir.

"I think that is the most logical thing I have ever heard you say," exclaimed Faramir to his brother. Boromir beamed.

"Well…," said Frodo. "Sounds good to me! Alright…third question. Who does Eowyn marry?"

Eowyn peeked around the corner and fixed Faramir with a long, hard look.

"I knew you didn't go far," he mouthed silently to her while pressing his beeper.

"She married the handsome, strong, wonderful, son of Denethor. Namely, me. Faramir." Faramir responded, eyes never leaving Eowyn's face. Eowyn was trying her best not to smile.

"Uh correct," offered Frodo, hiding behind the podium as Eowyn walked back into the room.

"Apologies, my friend," Eowyn offered to Frodo. "I meant to kick the podium and I was pretending it was his head," she continued pointing to Faramir. "Forgive me."

Frodo nodded but stopped abruptly, face frozen in what appeared to be shock.

"Uh, are you okay?" asked Eowyn.

"Yeah…but this…this is the first game we've ever gotten to three questions! WE DID IT!"

Everyone cheered.

"Sure," Pippin exclaimed, turning to the hobbit on his right, "the show we're not invited to be a contestant or host of, everyone actually gets paid."

"What a world," Merry offered.

"I even saved the day!" Sam sighed.

"But you showed up!" Frodo exclaimed. "You can have money, too!" The crowds seemed to rejoice along with Those Who Would Be Paid.

"Let's celebrate! I know just the place, guys," Pippin began.

"Hold up," interjected Aragorn. "QUIET PLEASE!" he proclaimed, using his best King Voice To Make 'Em Shut Up And Listen©. I am hosting an after-party in…half an hour or so. All contestants and/or hosts from any of the episodes are invited to attend. Thank you."

Eowyn sidled up next to Faramir, head hanging. "Faramir, I didn't—"

"Its okay," he interrupted her, "It is I who should apologize."

Unfortunately for his weak stomach, Saruman chose that moment to finally awaken and found himself gazing up at a now kissing Faramir and Eowyn.

"Ugh…gag me and drown me in the Anduin¹!" he exclaimed.

Denethor turned to him, offering him a hand so he could stand up. "That, my friend, can be arranged." A look of horror flitted over the wizard's face. "Legolas, Boromir, Gandalf" Denethor continued, turning to those on his left. "Shall we?"

"It would be a pleasure, my lord," offered Legolas. Boromir grinned. Gandalf smiled slowly.

"No wait!" exclaimed Saruman as they began dragging him away. "I'm sorry!"

"Sarcasm, my friends, is like a one-legged horse: You can use it if you want, but it sure isn't gonna take you where you want to go.²" Aragorn offered sagely.

Everyone laughed.

"Well folks" Frodo declared before the audience, "That's the end of our show!" He winked once more as the curtains closed to the sounds of much applause and laughter and good spirited moshing.

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1. Simply Sara's Original Saying™ Number One © 2003 

2. Simply Sara's Original Saying™ Number Two © 2004

Use them, spread them, make them appear in quote anthologies. ;D

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Wow…I don't think any chapter has yet been this long. Or this funny. IMHO. 

Hope you enjoyed!

COMING SOON: The After Party!

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.::Reviewer Response Corner::. 

**Celias23** Well, this chapter certainly is longer than the others! Longer chapters usually are better, aren't they? : ) Eomer, Boromir, and Faramir, huh? I can't say that I blame you there! They're three of my favorites, too. I'm really glad you like our story and are amused! Your reviews are deeply appreciated! D Here's to hoping you stay amused!

**Erestor** As a fellow fan of good sarcasm, I can't agree with you more. Saruman is quite a trip, isn't he? Sam is a very likeable guy. A Sam-fan filled audience is always a good thing I say. Stupid/fat/ugly Sam isn't my cup of tea either. I have informed Frodo that Boromir isn't stupid. He laughed long and hard until he realized I was serious. Then he apologized. Hope you liked this chapter, too! Btw, I can't wait to read all those chapters of Elves of the Third Age I've missed! Every time I get an update notice in my inbox I cringe in anticipation. It seems I've no time to really sit down and read fanfiction anymore since school started. Things usually settle down after a month or so, thankfully, so we'll see if I can't find a way to _make_ the time.

**IrethAncalime3791** Perhaps Saruman's sarcasm in this chapter made up for his lack in chapter 3? fingers crossed Glad you loved the third part! And I agree, Boromir is a real scream : ). Denethor and Frodo fighting: Who woulda thunk it? I like the "rabid-quadruped-Gandalf-running-for-his-life bit myself. "Loved every second"…music to our ears! :D

**Sarah** Glad to have a new reader! Pleased to know you like it. Pyro-Denethor is rather amusing, I agree, as long as the author isn't being too serious. Which you have no fear of from my sister and I in this story! : ) Boromir and Faramir are your favorites? Wouldn't say that I can blame you for that! : ) I wouldn't call this updating _soon_, but it was just about as quick as we could manage.

**Lindariel H.** The funniest fanfic you've read so far? We are deeply flattered and honored! :D Here's some more!

**Noldo** Ah…I take no offence about the errors…in fact I like it! It helps me out immensely not to mention knocking me down a few pegs, which I always feel I can use…D. Aragorn and Arwen. Lothiriel and Eomer. My sister and I have made both couples rather soppy, I think, although Aragorn and Arwen are the worst. 'Pookie', eh? Well, I'm afraid it didn't quite make it into this episode, but perhaps the after party? I shall say something to my sister on the subject. I'm sure she'll laugh! About pyro-Denethor: I, too, find him more true and appealing in "Fallaciously Framed" which was more of a real story than this, I think. Here…everyone's a bit on the OOC side, so I thought, 'Hey, why not poke a little fun?' However, when dear old Denethor gets portrayed as a pyro and/or a evil & soulless megalomaniac and the author is being even _remotely_ serious, I have a tendency to get quite miffed. It seems Denethor usually gets the (very) short end of the stick in most fanfiction, much to my chagrin. Didn't want you to think I hated him or something. When I read your review of chapter 3 I laughed out loud! "Some people's mental capacity" indeed! LOL Glad you found it to be a sublime description. Nothing else seemed to quite capture that growling sound I was envisioning in my head.

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THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU… 

…ALL for reading! We hope you continue to enjoy this story. If it wasn't for you guys this story would have never made it past chapter one.

Oh…and for all you fans of "Fallaciously Framed!" out there, stay tuned for its sequel. The first chapter is coming October 2004 to a webpage near you!

God bless,

Sara & Dene4


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